


November (Please Be Kind)

by dumdumbrendon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Boston boys, Comic-Con, Don Saladino is a good bro, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Poor romanian puppy, Sebastian pushes himself too hard, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumdumbrendon/pseuds/dumdumbrendon
Summary: It's not that he doesn't like parties and events. Sebastian really does love them; loves getting to meet other celebrities and work his way into circles. But he's just so tired, is the thing. He’d woken up that morning with Chris, had lazy, intimate, wonderful sex, and then gotten up and started his day. Now it’s nearing the time to leave for the GQ and Hugo Boss thing, and he’s eyeing a packet of Emergen-C that’s lying in their medicine cabinet.He doesn't feel sick. Just. Worn down, in a way he’s not entirely used to. Sebastian’s pretty good when it comes to his immune system. He’d managed to avoid the plague that had gone around while filming Civil War. The last time he was sick was during the Tulsa Con, and that had been down right miserable. The time before that, he’d still been dating Jennifer. Jesus that was so long ago.





	November (Please Be Kind)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this. It's 7k of shameless sick Seb. Thank you to SC for keeping me motivated and helping me read through things. I love you!

It’s October 31st and Sebastian knows that he has a long month ahead of him. He knows it. Is looking straight at his phone screen, the words and numbers burning into his eyes. 

November is a hell of a month. He’s got interviews and press conferences. He’s got a comic con and right after a monologue thing for charity. He’s not entirely sure that by December he’ll be living. And god, December is it’s own beast. 

Now, Sebastian loves working, really. He does. Who wouldn’t when what he does brings joy and happiness to people all over the world? It’s just..-he needs his own time too. Down time with no paparazzi or invasion of privacy. Don’t get him wrong. He loves fans, how much they love him, how they have such interesting thoughts on all of his characters. But Sebastian needs quiet too, or he gets burnt out. Lines on his face, eyes dull and tired. He’s a battery, needs that recharge. He’s been thinking recently off taking a small trip with Chris while they both have a few days off for Thanksgiving. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Daisy, one of the handlers on set for Marvel, calls his name, effectively letting him know his break is over. Standing, pushing back very well secured extensions that may or may not be giving him a headache, Seb trudges back to work. At least it’s not summer time, not like while filming Winter Soldier. He can breathe, and the asphalt isn’t burning beneath his boots, the air isn’t so muggy he can see it. 

——————————

The air feels different, Sebastian muses, as he walks out from the airport. It’s the first day of November, and holy shit, it’s the first day of November. He feels like his body is still back somewhere in May or June. It doesn’t help that yesterday the cast didn’t really do anything to celebrate Halloween. They were all too busy shooting for deadlines, and really, Sebastian wouldn’t have dressed up or anything anyway. 

Yawning, he smiles at Don, who picks him up. He’s missed his friend, trainer. He’s missed the sarcastic banter and encouraging words. His mind wanders to Chris. The man who would do anything for him, even try and cancel a job of his own just to pick his guy up from the airport- to which Sebastian had squawked and shook his head resolutely. No. He wouldn’t be a reason for Chis not doing what he loves, even if it was just one day. So he’s with Don. 

Don greets him with a ‘Hey buddy’ and a hug, knowing Sebastian’s disdain for flying. They get into Don’s car and he lets to a sigh he’s been holding in for way too long. Exhaustion is brimming over the edge of his body and all he wants is for Chris to be there, to hug him and maybe take a nap with him. 

Joke’s on him. He’s got to go to a fitting for a new suit he’ll be wearing tomorrow, and he’s got to check the mail at their tiny apartment. A tiny part of him wishes Dodger would be there to greet him with licks and tail wags, but he knows LA wouldn’t suit well with the pup. Just a little while longer till he gets both Dodger and Chris in the same place. Twenty one more days. He can do this. 

He lets his mind get lost half in thought and half in whatever song Don has playing on the radio, as they drive. It takes him a minute, but Sebastian suddenly recognizes the tune. 

He turns slowly to his friend, eyes dark. 

“Are you fucking serious right now? It’s literally November first. It was Halloween yesterday,” he groans, no real malice behind the man’s words, may just a small touch of annoyance.

Don laughs and turns to look at Sebastian before moving his eyes back to the road. 

“Everyone loves Michael Buble’s Christmas album!” 

“Maybe when it hits December! Jesus Don,” Seb laughs, shaking his head. He allows himself to hum along to ‘Jingle Bells’, ignoring Don’s pointed looks. He can’t help that it’s catchy. 

When they arrive to Sebastian’s small apartment in West LA, he thanks Don and nods in confirmation about their early morning workout session. He loves working out, especially with Don and Tone and Shim and everyone else. But god, he’s fucking tired, and doesn’t want to think about it right now. He says goodbye, grabs his duffle bag and moves into his and Chris’s small home. 

When they had bought the apartment, they’d not realized they’d be spending more than a few days at at time living in it’s small space. It’s small, but not too uncomfortably so. It’s barely 1000 sq feet of livable space (982 sq feet on paper). It has two bedrooms and a bathroom, a tiny kitchen and a very well used balcony. That had been a deal breaker for Seb, a balcony and a fire place, even if it never gets cold in California. 

Moving into their bedroom, the one farthest down the narrow hallway, Sebastian thunks his bag down, toes off his shoes and indulgently flops down on their made up bed; a white bedspread covered, blue sheeted queen with down pillows because they’d learned quickly Chris is allergic) pillows and a sherpa blanket laid neatly across the bottom. He lets himself splay out for a moment before grimacing and getting back up. 

He can all but feel the gross germs from the airplane, crawling on him. Shucking off his jacket and tee shirt, the actor moves back out to the bathroom. It’s nice and surprisingly large, all white tile and maroon accents. Their shower/tub combo is what Sebastian is most proud of. Chris had been adamant that they have a tub, and at first Sebastian didn’t see why. It wasn’t like this was their real home, not like back in New York. But after a long day of training, coming home and soaking is actually nice. 

The shower head sprays like rain, perfect pressure and Sebastian loves it more than the tub, if possible. Turning the water on, he lets it heat up, the room going foggy as he pulls off his pants and calvins. 

——————————

By the time he's back home from the fitting, jet lag and exhaustion hit him. But then he sees the living room light on and all the tension in him starts bleeding away. Moving quickly, Seb nearly trips over himself as he goes into their bedroom. 

There, undoing his button down, is Chris. Sebastian let's out a small noise, something between a whine and a sigh, and he wraps his long arms around Chris’s torso, hugging tight. Chris obviously can tell Sebastian’s been desperate to see him, because the older man holds on just as tight, pressing kisses to Seb’s hair and face. 

“My guy,” Chris whispers admiringly, running his hands down his boyfriend's back. He hums at the way he can feel Seb relax at every stroke. Feel him become less rigid and more pliable. 

“I missed you,” Chris adds, smiling when Sebastian nods and makes a noise again. It's obvious he’s tired. Sebastian tends to resort to noises when he’s too tired or mentally overwhelmed to create true sentences. Chris merely shucks his shirt completely off- still half on from being interrupted by Seb, and then moves them to the bed. 

Seb’s already in sweats and a tee and Chris thanks whatever powerful being there is that he himself had already changed into sweats before removing his top. 

“Long day kiddo?” Chris asks affectionately. The nickname is slightly teasing at times, but now, with Sebastian half awake against him, it's more endearing than anything. Seb doesn't seem to mind the nickname either, burrowing closer and sniffling against Chris’s skin, breathing the scent in. Home. He’s safe. Loved. 

Chris realizes quickly that he’ll get more out of his boyfriend tomorrow, and opts to rub his back and lull him to sleep. Faint shadows under his eyes are a tell-tale sign Sebastian’s been struggling to sleep. That coupled with flying, and Chris knows that right now, the best thing he can do for him is to let Seb dream. 

——————————

He wakes up slowly, groggy and feeling out of it. His face is smushed up against something solid and there’s a comfortable weight around him that makes Sebastian want to close his eyes again. He smiled when he realizes it’s Chris, who’s wrapped around him. Breathing the man's scent in, he let's sleep overtake him once more. 

—————————

It's not that he doesn't like parties and events. Sebastian really does love them; loves getting to meet other celebrities and work his way into circles. But he's just really fucking tired, is the thing. He’d woken up that morning with Chris, had lazy, intimate, wonderful sex, and then gotten up and started his day. Now it’s nearing the time to leave for the GQ and Hugo Boss thing, and he’s eyeing a packet of Emergen-C that’s lying in their medicine cabinet. 

He doesn't feel sick. Just. Worn down, in a way he’s not entirely used to. Sebastian’s pretty good when it comes to his immune system. He’d managed to avoid the plague that had gone around while filming Civil War. The last time he was sick was during the Tulsa Con, and that had been down right miserable. The time before that, he’d still been dating Jennifer. Jesus that was so long ago. 

He vaguely remembers his step father making an offhand comment when he was younger, about not getting sick often, but making up for it when he did. That Sebastian can attest to. 

Looking down at his watch, he swears and dashes out of the bathroom and grabs his keys from the table next to the door. He’s going to be late. Wonderful. 

——————————

Four days later, and Sebastian’s freaking the fuck out. He has to figure out how to say a speech and not ramble on and on, get lost and caught up on things that don't really matter. The I,Tonya cast and crew are going to the Hollywood Film Awards, accepting an award, and Sebastian (along with Margot) have been told they need to say something. 

He swallows thickly, thinking about how many things he could mess up. He's the guy who read “lesbian” out loud during an instagram live feed with Don, instead of Lebanon. God. 

Chris can tell his boyfriend’s on edge, so he makes them both some coffee and turkey sandwiches. He brings it all over to where Sebastian is sitting on the couch, blue blanket wrapped around him. He looks up, blue eyes lighting up. 

“Chris" he says fondly, voice soft and surprised. 

“Looked like you could use a little break,” Chris supplied, sitting down. Sebastian takes the mug of coffee and sips slowly, savoring the warmth. His eyes crinkle at the edges; something Chris is probably overly fond of, and he sighs contently. 

“I love you.” 

Chris feels himself melt. His guy doesn't know how much he does to him. 

“Love you too champ.” 

They sit there for a while, Seb working on his speech, Chris attempting to keep his focus on his book, but really, he's just watching the other man. 

By the time Seb is up on stage, black suit on, Margot and the rest of the cast near him, he’s nervous but excited. He knows he stumbles over some words, but he hopes it adds to whatever charm Chris had said he had. 

That night, Chris gives him a congratulatory blow job and Sebastian comes faster than he's willing to admit. He's happy and flushed and warm and he wishes the rest of the month could be this good. 

——————————

“Seb babe, you told me to wake you up at eight so you could start packing for the con,” Chris says, running his fingers through Seb’s messy, slightly curly hair. Chris loves that he’s not trying to hide his curls anymore, not trying to perm his hair straight or comb it excessively. Chris thinks about how he might have a slight kink when it comes to the disheveled nature of Sebastian, how he can make anything rigid look less composed when he's all messy hair, sleepy eyes and red lips. 

Sebastian groans and rubs his eyes, leaning into Chris’s touch. He doesn’t want this day to start, because when it does, it’s a nonstop marathon of things for a week. He has the con, and then the monologue reading, and then the golden globe celebration party. The con, for the most part, he’s excited for. Meeting fans, learning their thoughts about Bucky, getting to make them light up. The monologue reading isn’t that scary, but he’s nervous he’s going to be starstruck by the other performers. 

Thank god Jessica will be there, and he’ll have an old costar and friend to talk to. The party will be more socializing and status climbing than anything else. Individually, none of it’s bad. Just- thinking about it all happening one after the other, it’s a beast. Plus all the traveling. He’s also certain he’ll drop by the I, Tonya screening as well. 

He watches Chris leave to presumably consume some breakfast, but he himself isn’t hungry. He shifts and all but rolls out of bed, mind bouncing in one hundred different directions. Packing. Packing needed to happen before anything else. Well, actually, picking a travel outfit needed to happen. 

After the better part of thirty minutes, Seb had an outfit picked and was struggling to decide what else to pack. He thumbed through his phone and went to the weather app, typing in Rhode Island. It seemed like it wouldn’t be too cold, the average temp in the mid fifties. Sighing in relief, because there was no way he’d be happy having to freeze the whole weekend, Seb decides on his normal attire, as well as one of Chris’s sweaters and an extra jacket. He keeps in mind he’s going straight to LA after being in NYC for a day, so hopefully he’ll be able to switch out some of his clothing for something nicer and less casual. 

He gets all of his things together, makes sure he has the right amount of soap and shampoo, and then goes to find Chris. The man in question is on the phone with his brother Scott, laughing about something, his Boston accent strong. Like it always is with family. Seb stops and watches Chris, all muscle and blond hair, walking around their apartment barefoot, sweatpants riding low on his hips. What a fucking sight. 

Sebastian can feel a slight headache building behind his eyes, the ones he gets from stress and lack of sleep, and moves to find some advil, popping two into his mouth and taking a sip of Chris’s coffee. Better to stop the headache now, he decides, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He barely notices Chris is off the phone until he’s hugged from behind. 

“How long is it this time? I know the con is three days…” Chris trails off, voice slightly pouty. Seb chuckles and shifts so he can press a kiss to his cheek, his own beard tickling Chris’s now clean shaven face. 

“Mm, three days for the con, then I’m flying- which is stupid because it’s less than three hours to drive, fuckin’  
to NYC to do the monologue thing. I leave that night to go to LA, attempt to sleep some the next day and then I have the celebration of the golden globes thing, and then, thank fuck, i’m off for two days, which means sex and naps with you,” Seb winks, lacing their fingers. 

“Mm, can’t wait for the last part. I’ll be doing some of that narration stuff for Nat Geo during the week, but I get back in the same day you have your first day off I think.” 

Seb hates that their schedules are so fucking tied up, but he knows he needs to be grateful they have time for each other at all. Which really, how fucking sad is that? 

Chris can tell Seb’s getting himself worked up again, so his fingers find the end of his guys hair at his neck, petting it softly. He feels Sebastian relax against him, sighing. He wishes he could be there with him all the time. It sucks that he can’t. But he also has a career and is happy to be getting jobs as well. He’s not going to be Captain America forever, especially with the end looming close by. 

Eleven o’clock rolls around and Sebastian boards his plane, thankful he’d not been too noticed by anyone. He’d worked himself into a mood before leaving, even after the kisses and handjobs he and Chris had given each other. He just wants to be home for a while. He reminds himself as he sits down in his seat that come November twenty second, he’ll have almost a full week of nothing but Chris and Dodger in their brownstone in New York. Of course they’ll be traveling to Boston on Thanksgiving to see Robert, Lisa and Chris’s slew of siblings. 

Secretly- or maybe not so secretly, Sebastian loves the big holiday get togethers, something he never had growing up. It’d just been he, his mother and stepfather, and while he still called on the holiday’s, he was thankful to be part of the Evans’ traditions now. 

Sighing, he pops his earbuds back in as he waits for the plane to take flight, his stomach flipping at the thought of being up in the air. Being in a metal death trap for hours on end where if something goes wrong, there’s not anything to be done. He has a layover in Charlotte, a place he’s come to find somewhat familiar. He’d only been there a few days for Logan Lucky, touring the Nascar Hall of Fame and picking up a stupid CLT baseball hat for Chris (“It literally sounds like clit Sebastian!!”) but he knows the fifty five minutes spent killing time won’t be hard in the pretty and way less confusing than Atlanta airport. 

When they touch down, Seb looks outside and is reminded quickly that wow, \- time zone’s are a bitch. . The flight itself had only been a little less than five hours long, but because he flew west coast to east, it adds three hours. Seven o’clock in the winter time means it’s almost pitch black when he walks out of the plane and into the airport. 

By the time he gets to his hotel in Rhode Island, it’s eleven o’clock and he’s exhausted. He has a full day ahead of him- panels and photo ops, a signing and more pictures. He sends a text to Chris to let him know he’s in his room and in true Chris fashion, the phone starts buzzing, lighting up for a face time call. Yawning, Seb pulls off his pants as the image and sound connect. 

“Hey handsome! Have good flights? You look tired,” Chris comments. 

Seb wishes he was there with him, there to lull him to sleep in the unfamiliar hotel room. The room itself is nice, so is the hotel. It’s almost more of a resort. He’s got a nice king sized bed with two extra blankets- he’s sure his assistant called and told them he was always freezing. 

“They were alright. Pretty standard. No kids screaming and crying, which was nice.” 

Chris laughs, full belly, hand to boob. The last time they’d flown together, there had been some little baby screaming her head off the entire three hour flight, right behind them. 

“Good, good. God you look so beautiful. Wish I was there sweetheart. Would make sure you got some sleep.” 

Sebastian whines as he slips himself into the too-large bed, messing with the pillows a second before letting his head flop onto the white-linen sheets. 

“Wish you were here too. And Dodger. Miss you guys. How’d your day go?” 

Chris talks about going out to get some food with a few of their friends, how he almost puked from so much pizza. Sebastian can imagine the sight easily, one that happens too often. Can see Chris, all puppy dog eyes and hunched shoulders, lying on the couch waiting for a tummy rub. Fuck he wishes he’d been there to take care of him. 

He realizes he’s said the last bit outloud when Chris gives a reassuring sound.

“It’s okay. I got through it pretty quick. Though the guys kept teas-Seb? You sleepy babe?” Chris smirks, watching his boyfriend’s eyes shut on the other side of the phone. When there’s no response, Chris grins and murmurs an ‘I love you’ before hanging up, shooting his guy a quick text to remind him to have something other than just coffee for breakfast. 

——————————

It’s the first day of the con. It starts at three pm, but Seb has to be there by noon to get his handler and figure out all the places he needs to be. He’s pretty sure, at least, that that’s his schedule when he wakes up. The hotel room is dark -thank you back out curtains- and he presses his face into his pillow. His. The one that’s usually on his and Chris’s bed, that smells vaguely of Chris and his cologne. He always brings it to cons, can’t sleep well without it. Especially can’t sleep well without Chris. 

He grabs his phone when he remembers that he’d been talking to Chris last night. He flushes pink at the idea he’d fallen asleep on him, but maybe Chris thought it was cute? He himself thinks it’s cute when he gets to watch his boyfriend fall asleep over face time. Here’s hoping. 

By the time Seb is up, showered, dressed, and had a protein bar, he realizes he needs to be heading down to the car that’s taking him to the convention center. He’s excited to see the fans and do panels, and he’s excited to see Paul Bettany again as well. They’d talked for some time on the set of Infinity Wars and he was a pretty nice guy. 

Samantha is his handler for this con, and she’s incredibly kind and sweet. She seems just slightly star struck of him, but she keeps it professional and he makes a note in his head to do something nice for her at the end of it all. He guesses her job is much harder than his, and she probably doesn’t get paid much, or get the credit she deserves. Sam shows him around the convention, talks a little about how the writers and directors of The Walking Dead are dicks, not letting their guys who were scheduled for the con come because they needed to film. Seb agrees. That’s a dick move. 

He and Sam get some lunch that’s provided for them and talk a little before he’s being taken to an area behind some pipe and drape to do the first signing. 

The whole weekend is a blur of fun and ‘holy shit this is real, I make these people happy,’ for Sebastian. He hugs so many fans he thinks his arms might fall off. He’s so impressed by everyone’s artwork and costumes and gifts. He feels so inadequate most of the time, like he’s just some kid that managed to get lucky, and this is definitely one of those times. He’s been told in the past 48 hours that he’s helped people with mental illness, that he’s made people cry from his performances. He’s drawn a (very awful) tattoo for some poor girl and he hopes she’s not going to actually get it tattooed. 

By the time Sunday night rolls around, and the last panel has ended, he feels drained, but also empty in that slightly sad way. He’s done so much in three days and now it’s ending abruptly and it almost gives him whiplash. He  
remember Samantha and her hospitality, so he ends up buying her a nice dinner and sitting with her, talking and learning and becoming friends. 

He hops on the plane from Rhode Island to New York City, thankful it’s quick and easy, and then calls Chris. Dejavu hits him as they face time, but this time he’s in their actual bed in the city, with Dodger. Unfortunately Chris is still in Atlanta, but at least Seb has one guy with him. 

——————————

The monologue goes well, all things considered. He and Jessica Chastian get to catch up, he meets a few other stars. He stumbles over a few words, but everyone seems to be pretty receptive to everything, and he even gets a call from Chris after saying he had a friend there who’d sent him a recording, and said how proud he was. Seb feels the happiest he has all day. 

When he gets back to their brownstone, he does a load of laundry, heats himself up a lean cuisine frozen dinner, feeds Dodger and then falls asleep on the couch while watching Batman VS Superman. He realizes his mistake 7 hours later when his alarm on his phone goes off and his neck and back hurt like a fucking bitch. He whines as he tries to stretch out, waking Dodger in the process. The puppy gives him a look and Seb sighs. 

“I know. I should be the responsible adult.”

——————————

By the next day, after the party and his surprise visit to the I, Tonya screening, Seb wakes up with a sore throat and headache. He feels slightly unwell, but he can’t tell if it’s just exhaustion or an actual illness. He supposes it’s probably just jet lag, from flying so much and doing things non-stop. His body is just trying to catch up with him. He’s thankful he has two days of nothing to do, and he even gives a quick text to Don, letting him know he’ll be skipping this afternoon’s workout, that his body needs more sleep. Don responds with a thumbs up emoji and Sebastian falls back asleep. 

Seb wakes up again feeling less rested than hours before. He drags a hand across his face and feels like his body is too warm and too hot simultaneously. Swallowing, he gets up and pulls an old blanket around him, padding barefoot to the kitchen in the LA apartment to make some tea. He knows he should probably be doing something productive, but he’s just so fucking  
. He decides to make some mac and cheese as well, because hey, it may not be healthy, but it’s about the only thing he wants to eat right now. Popping the little individual cup into the microwave, he goes and lies on the couch to wait. The microwave dings three minutes later, but Seb is already asleep again. 

——————————

Sebastian’s convinced that whatever had happened yesterday was just exhaustion, because while he’s still tired today, he doesn’t feel sick and he’s actually out and about doing things. The next few days he works out with Don, does an instagram live feed about Jaguar and stupid Tom Hiddleston, and then he’s back off to New York to do a photoshoot and then start celebrating Thanksgiving with Chris, a whole week of nothing but them. 

Chris gets home the same day Seb does, and that night, the night before thanksgiving, there’s so much mind blowing sex that Sebastian swears he’s going to keel over from too many orgasms. Chris laughs when Seb voices his concerns, giving him another deep kiss. 

Thanksgiving is nice. Much needed. They head over to Lisa and Robert’s place around 11am, and Seb helps Lisa with the stuffing. They bring strawberry salad and pie. Chris and Carly tackle each other during football in the back. They're the most utterly American family Sebastian had ever witnessed. It's beautiful. 

It’s two days after thanksgiving, when he and Chris are still at Chris’s parents house, that Seb starts to feel off. He, Chris, Scott and Shana’s little boy are all playing a game of monopoly when exhaustion that he’s been able to control for the most part, slams into him. He knows it’s not even three in the afternoon but suddenly all Seb wants to do is lie down. By the end of the game an hour later, Robert’s asking Chris, Scott and Seb to help put lights up on the house outside. Of course, being the gentleman he is, Seb readily agrees, mustering all the energy he can. Thank god he’s an actor. 

It’s freezing. Boston in November is always freezing, but Seb thinks that it’s even more cold than usual. His long pale fingers feel numb, and he’s sure by the looks Chris keeps shooting him, that the shivers that keep wracking his body are obvious to more than just himself. He’s growing more and more tired every time he goes up on the ladder to help the other men with stringing the lights, and his throats getting a little scratchy from the cold air. Sniffling, Seb pushes it all out of the back of his mind. He’s at the Evans’ celebrating family, and nothing is going to stop him. 

When he and Chris are driving back home that night, after all the lights and Christmas decorations are up, Seb lets him think about the encounter he had with Lisa in the kitchen hours prior. He’d been sitting at the table, listening to Chris and Robert talk about some film he’d not seen, when his eyes started drooping. Lisa walked over and fondly put a hand on his shoulder, effectively making him jump. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart! I didn’t mean to startle you. Did you want to go lie on the couch? It’s empty if you’d like it?” 

Seb had looked at the couch before squaring his shoulders. He wasn’t going to bring anyone’s holiday down by being a bummer and sleeping on the couch. 

“Its alright Lisa, but thank you,” he spoke softly, partly because that’s just how he was, partly because his throat was starting to actually sore. . 

“Are you sure you’re alright honey? You look exhausted,” she murmured, pressing a hand up to his forehead, motherly instincts kicking in. He drew back and smiled. 

“I’m alright, really. Just tired,” Seb promised, getting up to find something to do so he wouldn’t look like all he wanted to do was sleep. 

Sebastian’s thoughts are broken by Chris who’s looking at him from the drivers seat as if he’s spoken to him already. Oh. Shit. .

“What?” His voice is low and tired, slightly strained from the coughs he's been holding in all day. Chris grabs his guys hand, squeezing it. 

“You alright champ? You seem...out of it,” Chris tries to be subtle, but it comes out anything but. Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly. He may not feel great, but it's not like has the flu or anything. It's a silly cold. 

“I'm fine. Think I'm just getting a cold or something. I'll take some meds tonight,” he assures. He squeezes Chris’s hand back, trying to reassure him. He knows what tomorrow holds. He has to go to the I,Tonya premiere at East Village, answer some questions, be a celebrity. He doesn't have time for a silly cold. 

——————————

By the time they get home and are both in bed, Seb realizes he's not had any medicine, nor does he feel like getting up from his blanket cocoon to get any. He shivers and muffles a small cough into his pillow. This can't happen. Not now. 

He thinks it'll be like a week ago. He’ll wake up and feel completely fine. He's so wrong. 

Sebastian wakes up at 7 am to a blaring alarm on his phone. The first thing he notices when he wakes up is how freezing it is. It feels like the heat must have kicked off during the night. A dull throb makes itself known in his head and his throats feels like it's on fire. His body aches so much it's making him want to cry the longer he lies there. What the fuck did he catch? 

He shuts the alarm off and sniffles, noting how congested he is. He's sure that'll sound just great tonight. Coughing into the hem of his tee, Seb groans softly and cracks open his eyes. He shivers, frame shaking from the chill that's running down his spine. His face feels unnaturally hot compared to the rest of him, and he moves his head so he can try and cool his face off. 

Chris is already gone. He has a meeting for a new project and Seb isn't sure whether he's sad he's gone or grateful he doesn't know how sick he is. Sitting up, the actor closes his eyes a moment, trying to get a grip. It's a damn cold. He can get through the next few days. It's fine. 

Except it's not. It's not fine at all. He makes himself some tea before he has to start getting ready for the red carpet. The tea burns as he swallows it, and it feels like his airway is smaller than usual. He coughs after the liquid has made its way down, wincing at how sore his throats is. His stomach flips uncomfortably as the tea attempts to settle in his stomach and two minutes later it's coming back up, along with acid, into the kitchen sink. Sebastian grips the front of the sink hard as he dry heaves and nothing else comes up. Shit when did he get so sick? 

He manages to keep down four ibuprofen and get his Burberry suit on. Seb looks at himself in the mirror and almost regrets it. He's pale and his cheeks are flushed a deep pink. He has circles under his eyes and his hair, while still nice, is curlier than usual from sleep and sweat. Shivering, he makes his way down to his car and leaves, trying to ignore his body. He can do it. 

Fifteen minutes into the walk and Seb’s sure something bad is going to happen. The false sense of security he’d made for himself had been broken when he’d almost gagged infront of fans. He knows he looks rough. He feels floaty and drunk and miserable. He hopes he doesn't come off as such. 

When he catches up to Margot and Alison, they both freeze. Margot’s getting interviewed and she steps herself aside, apologizing politely to the host. 

“Seb, god, are you okay?” She asks in her soft kind voice, the British accent calming. Seb nods but doesn't speak, his throat’s too sore and he's not sure he’ll be able to speak without throwing up. He’s about to apologize when he feels suddenly woozy and his world tips to the side. Everything goes blissfully dark. 

——————————

Chris is working out at the gym with a few friends when his phone rings. He checks the called as he’s running on the treadmill and smiles. Seb. But then he realizes it’s 6 o’clock and he should be at the premiere. Confused, he slows the machine down and gets off. He picks up on the last ring.

“Hey baby, what's up?” 

“Chris? It's Margot…” 

Chris feels his whole body get cold, his stomach drop the way he was a kid before he realized he didn't like roller coasters. Swallowing thickly, he thinks back to Seb that morning. He'd been sleeping and warm but Chris assumed it was from all the blankets. 

“What happened?” His voice is surprisingly calm for how shaky he feels. He’s already in the locker room before he can even really think. He needs to get to his guy. 

“Seb’s really sick…he passed out, on the red carpet.” 

Chris can imagine Sebastian, his sweet and wonderful Seb, pushing himself to make fans happy. He can imagine him being confused and then tumbling forward. 

Feeling sick himself that he hadn't helped, Chris lets out a strangled noise. 

“Is...where is...is he ok? Can I talk to him? Where is he?” Everything comes out jumbled as Chris makes his way out of the gym. He starts working on getting a taxi. 

“He's pretty sick. Still hasn't woken up yet. He’ll be ok though Chris. You know he's tough. Paramedics are here, they're taking him to St.Luke’s. I...I’ll go with him, in case he wakes up…” 

Chris tries to think logically. He knows she's right. It's probably the flu, coupled with exhaustion. Seb will be okay, he just needs to rest. 

“Margot...it’s ok...he...you need to stay. It's the premiere of your movie. I'll go as quickly as possible. I'll keep you updated,” he finally says, after flagging a taxi and telling them where to go. He hears bustling in the background and can tell she’s scared. 

“Ok...thank you Chris. Please keep me updated?” She asks, voice shaky. “They have him and are loading him up.” 

“Of course. Thank you again Margot. I'm glad you were there, god...if it had been at home…” chris trails off and then says goodbye before hanging up. He prays to whatever god there is that Seb will be okay. 

——————————

When he gets to the hospital, he finds the nearest ER nurse and explains who he is (which isn't really needed) and then gets sat in a near by chair when she explains that they're getting him into a room and on an IV. Chris knows arguing won't help the process go any quicker, so he smiles a tight smile and sits. 

Going on his phone, he notices that his twitter account has blown up. There’s thousands of tweets about Seb, but he pauses on a video. He watches Seb, too pale and entirely too sick to even be there, walk and say hello to fans. He watches him go over to Margot and then pale. He watches Seb look confused and then suddenly he’s falling, head hitting the semi soft plush red carpet, and Chris is grateful it hadn't been just concrete. Alison and Margot, along with three others instantly flock around him. 

Chris feels even shakier after watching the video and instantly calls Scott. He's sure by now he’s heard. He’s in the middle of talking to his brother when the same nurse comes out with a small sympathetic smile. Chris hurriedly tells Scott he’ll call him back and then walks with the kind woman to Seb’s private room. 

He walks in and there's two doctors along with a nurse, but all Chris can focus on is his Sebastian. The younger man’s coat had been taken off and his black button down is open. He’s still presumably in his slacks. Seb’s skin is pale, almost white, but his cheeks are flushed. The monitor to his right says that while his heart rate is normal, his temp is at 101.9. God. No wonder he looks so sick. 

Chris’s eyes snap to the doctor as he introduces himself and explains that all measures are being taken seriously to ensure Sebastian’s privacy and to get him back to healthy as quickly as possible. They've already confirmed he has the flu, along with dehydration and exhaustion. He’s hooked up to 800ml or fluids and they want to give him another bag as well. 

Still asleep, Sebastian shifts slightly, and Chris grabs his hand. He lets the doctors bustle about until he’s left alone, watching his boyfriend sleep. He’s not sure how long he’s sitting there, just watching, but it feels like hours. It’s not until a doctor has just left the third time, that Sebastian makes a small noise. 

Chris’s eyes snap up and he sees Seb, still so miserable, with his eyes open.

Sebastian is confused. He remembers the night before, falling asleep with Chris, and then everything is fuzzy. His head feels muzzy and floaty. He feels cold and achy. 

“What happened?” Seb rasps out, throat sore and voice barely there, from sickness and disuse. 

Chris’s body visibly relaxes and his tension melts out at his guys voice. He might be sick as hell and in a hospital, but Seb is going to be ok. 

“You….you got sick. What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Seb’s eyebrows knit together. “We...we were going to sleep…” 

Chris feels his stomach drop. God. Seb was so sick. 

“You went to the red carpet thing earlier tonight….you ended up passing out, freaked Margot the fuck out,” Chris tries to keep his voice light. He watches Seb realize everything and then sees him cough, wheezy and low. 

“God...that’s so embarrassing,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He winces when the IV tugs on his skin, glaring pathetically at it. He  
doctors. Chris shrugs, trying not to make a big deal of it. Seb scoots over slightly and looks at Chris. 

“Can...can you lay down with me?” His eyes flutter shut, feeling too exhausted to keep his eyes open. He feels Chris hum and then the gurney dip. Chris’s weight is heavy but familiar against his, and he sags against the warmth. 

“Poor guy. So sick…” Chris whispers, running his fingers through Seb’s hair gently, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He’s so incredibly grateful Sebastian is talking and breathing and aware of things. He lets him doze back off, and when the doctor comes in again, Seb is woken up to get a quick assessment of how he is. 

During the early morning, Chris notices fans still haven’t been informed. They’re blowing up his and Seb’s phones with tweets and comments on instagrams. Putting the coffee down he’s just grabbed from the cafeteria; admittedly not that strong- he takes his phone out and snaps a quick photo of Seb asleep, still fever flushed and pale, but still so beautiful. 

He posts the photo on instagram and links it on twitter before laying back down, letting himself drift back off to sleep. 

——————————

“Alright, there we go. Careful babe…” 

Chris is helping Seb into bed. They’ve just showered off and have been home for less than an hour. Both men are already more relaxed than they have been in the past day or so. Seb lowers himself into their bed, coughing weakly and sniffling softly. He feels shaky and weak and wants to close his eyes for the next few days. Chris gets in after him and wraps his arms around him, feeling how Seb’s lost a couple of pounds in the past few weeks. He resolves to make sure he takes better care of him. 

“Thanks for being a good nurse,” Seb mumbles, grasping at the blanket that Chris has spread across them. He pulls it a little closer, eyes shutting. “Love you.” 

“I love you baby. So glad you’re okay, or...relatively okay.” And it’s so true. 

Chris gives him another kiss before allowing them both to drift off. He thinks that if this was November, he hopes December will be better.  



End file.
